by Darcy Burke
“Edmund is far too young to be looking for a wife, Agatha,” Lady Jersey said firmly. “Nice boy, but still at Oxford,” she informed Ellen. “You need a man already set up; I take it you don’t have your heart set on a title or one of England’s great fortunes?”
“Just a simple home of my own and a man with a kind heart,” Ellen said. “I grew up in the parsonage at Haverford, my lady; my expectations are humble.”
“Humble, indeed!” Lady Sale gave her an approving look and the other two nodded. “Well, perhaps we can do a little better than that. Would you have any objections to a military man? The Wares’ second son is in the Navy and has lately received promotion to a captaincy and his own ship…” without waiting for Ellen’s reply, she waved to a sturdy young man in uniform and soon recruited him to dance the next set with her.
While Captain Ware was pleasant enough, he did not seem particularly interested in making more than polite conversation. Ellen was nevertheless pleased to dance at all, and grateful to the ladies for their condescension. Upon the conclusion of the set, Captain Ware returned her to her new benefactresses, where Ellen was surprised to find that they already had another partner awaiting her. Lord Bellmere was duly introduced, politely enquired as to whether she was engaged for the dance, and upon hearing that she was not, escorted her to the line of couples.
Beginning to enjoy herself despite the new dancing slippers still pinching her toes, Ellen smiled at Lord Bellmere when he asked how she was enjoying London.
“Oh, a good deal, my lord! Though I have not as yet had an opportunity to go to the British Museum; I am hoping that my cousin will be able to arrange a visit for us soon. I am very eager to see the famous marbles which Lord Elgin brought back from Athens.”
Lord Bellmere, a softly-spoken gentleman in his early forties who had not particularly objected when his cousin Lady Sale caught his attention and insisted he danced with a country nobody, found himself intrigued. In his experience, the Elgin Marbles and the British Museum were not generally the attractions which young ladies found of particular interest on their first visit to London.
“I have a friend who is on the board of the Museum,” he offered. “While the public opening times are a sad crush, it is possible to obtain tickets to more exclusive viewings. I could see if my friend might be able to assist…?”
Ellen’s smile was quite radiant as the dance brought them back together to clasp hands and bow. “Why, Lord Bellmere, that is a most generous offer! Thank you so much!”
Miss Bentley was very pretty when she smiled like that, Lord Bellmere thought, deciding that he would pay a call on his friend on the morrow. And that he owed his cousin Lady Sale a thank-you, for bringing Miss Bentley to his attention. No dowry to speak of, Lady Sale had said, but he was comfortably off and had no need of a wealthy wife. A pretty one with a brain between her ears, someone who would not bore him to tears in conversation, would suit him very well.
“Might I call upon you, Miss Bentley?” he enquired.
A pretty colour flushed Ellen’s cheeks as the dance ended and they bowed to each other. “That would be very pleasant, Lord Bellmere.”
Chapter 9
Partnering the pretty wife of another young Earl he had lately been introduced to in the dancing, Thomas was surprised to see Ellen join the set with a gentleman he did not know. Ellen looked happy, smiling and talking animatedly with her partner, and the gentleman seemed equally taken with her.
“Pardon me, Lady Hallam,” Thomas said, “but do you see the couple three down from us in the set, the beautiful dark-haired lady in the lavender dress with the green sash…”
“I see them, but I do not know her, if you are angling for an introduction,” Lady Hallam said with a cheerful laugh.
“That is my cousin Miss Bentley, ma’am. I was just wondering if you knew her partner?”
“Ah! Indeed, I do, that is Lord Bellmere. One of the Duke of Northumberland’s grandsons; there are a whole collection of them, and though he’s a long way from the ducal coronet he has a baronetcy from his mother and a very nice estate near Warwick, I believe.” She cast another look at the pair as the dance took them around to face Ellen and her partner. “Your cousin seems to have caught his fancy. He’s a very respectable gentleman, I assure you. No scandals or black sheep in that family.”
The news should have pleased Thomas, but he found himself frowning as he saw Ellen smiling widely at her partner again. What was the man saying, to make her look so pleased? He had not thought Ellen the type to fall for empty flattery. At the end of the dance, he hastily returned an amused Lady Hallam to her husband and set off in search of Ellen, finding her just as the next dance started.
“El-Miss Bentley,” he said.
“Cousin,” she offered him a pretty curtsy and a smile. “I pray you will excuse me; Major Trevithick has just engaged me for this dance.”
The very tall, very thin redheaded gentleman on whose arm Ellen’s gloved hand daintily rested, gave him a polite bow. There was little Thomas could do but smile and nod, though he found himself frowning after Ellen as she and her partner joined the forming set.
“So you’re Havers,” a voice said behind him, and he turned to find himself the focus of several pairs of beady eyes.
“At your service,” he bowed, unsure of the protocol. They had not been formally introduced, but then one of the ladies had addressed him, and from their jewels and gowns these were the kind of highly-ranked ladies who could sneer at convention all they pleased. Bellmere was standing with them, he noticed, and the baronet stepped forward.
“I’m Bellmere, my lord; I just had the pleasure of a dance with your charming cousin Miss Bentley.”
“Yes,” Thomas said, deciding quite irrationally that he did not like the shape of the other man’s eyebrows. Recognising that he was being slightly ridiculous, he forced himself to smile and be polite as Bellmere introduced Lady Jersey, Lady Sale and Mrs Peabody. Having read the newspapers diligently since his arrival in England, and not merely the political pages but the society ones as well, he recognised the names as some of the leaders of the Ton. Apparently, they had taken a liking to Ellen, because no sooner had they been introduced than they started telling him—not asking, but telling—that they intended to take her on and see her well married.
“Ellen—ah, Miss Bentley—is my ward, yes,” he answered a question from Lady Sale, “but she is in the charge of my aunt the Countess.”
“Clarice has her hands full with Lady Louisa and her army of suitors,” Lady Jersey said with a sniff, “whereas here we are, three bored dowagers with not a single girl between us to bring out this season. Lady Havers hasn’t had a minute to introduce Miss Bentley to anyone, Havers—do you mind if I call you Havers?”
“Would it matter if I did?”
“Not in the least, dear boy.” She smiled at him. “You may be American, but clearly you’re not a fool.”
There wasn’t much he could say to that, so he just bowed politely. Clearly Lady Jersey was a law unto herself.
“Thank you for your attentions to my cousin, milady. I will assume that you have her best interests at heart.”
“Don’t worry about a thing, Havers,” Lady Jersey waved a hand weighed down with gem-studded rings. “We’ll have her married off in no time.”
Thomas found that he could not feel as enthused about that idea as Lady Jersey and her friends seemed to be. “I will have to approve any serious suitors for her hand, of course,” he said stiffly, “and I trust that you will not introduce her to any gentlemen who are unsuitable.”
Lady Jersey gave him a penetrating look, but it was Mrs Peabody who asked;
“And do you have any particular criteria for suitability, my lord?”
Lord Bellmere hadn’t made himself scarce, Thomas noted, and was listening avidly to the conversation.
“No gamblers, or heavy drinkers,” Thomas said, trying to think of a good reason to exclude Bellmere apart from his detestable eyebrows.
His age, that had to count against him. “A gentleman with his own property, but not too high in the instep; Miss Bentley’s father was a parson and she was raised quite simply.”
“Pshaw,” Lady Sale said sharply, “my father was a parson too, and I managed perfectly well when I married Sale.”
“The Marquess of Sale,” Mrs Peabody murmured, for Thomas’ edification.
“Your pardon, my lady, I meant no offence.” He offered the marchioness a deep bow, and she sniffed, looking slightly mollified.
From the corner of his eye, Thomas caught a glimpse of Ellen and her tall partner in the dance. The man’s red coat, clashing with his hair, gave him another idea.
“While I have the utmost respect for the courage of England’s brave soldiers, I am not sure that I should care to see Miss Bentley married to a military man, either. The necessities of military service must needs keep them apart, and happiness in a marriage is difficult to achieve in such cases.” He carefully didn’t look at Lord Bellmere as he added one final recommendation. “Finally, I should prefer Ellen to marry a man reasonably close to her own age.”
“Well, we shall take all those things into account, Havers,” Lady Jersey said, sharp eyes boring into him. “For the most part, they are not unreasonable things to want for your cousin. I note that you did not mention her preference, though. Are we to take that into account and deny her if she discovers a partiality, for example, for naval captains?”
Thomas had the uneasy feeling that she was teasing him, though he could not discern precisely how. “Miss Bentley’s happiness is my first concern,” he said.
“Of course.”
Lady Jersey was definitely laughing in her sleeve about him, and Lady Sale and Mrs Peabody looked quite unaccountably amused as well. Bellmere was eyeing him in a peculiar way, almost as though sizing him up.
Deciding that retreat, in this case, would be well-advised, Thomas politely excused himself and made his way back across the room, glimpsing Ellen and her partner again on the way. Ellen was smiling again, that happy, bright smile he had only ever glimpsed a few times, usually in the library at Haverford when she discussed a particularly interesting book with him.
Was Ellen truly enjoying the ball so much? Thomas could not say that he was; so far, the people he had met had been dull, sycophantic or both, for the most part. The three older ladies he had just met were by far the most interesting encounters of the night.
“I say, Havers,” a hand caught at his sleeve and he paused, recognising Viscount Danbury, a gentleman around his own age who he had met earlier in the week. Two other young men were with Danbury, smiling at him in welcome.
“Danbury,” Thomas acknowledged. He had the distinct suspicion that the other man’s only interest in him was because of his relationship to Lady Louisa; Danbury had been very quick to trade on their brief acquaintance to claim an introduction and a place on Louisa’s dance card.
“We’ve done our duty to the elders and are off to Boodle’s; would you care to accompany us? My younger brother Alexander, by the way, and our friend Mr Penn.”
Thomas had been in London long enough to know that Boodle’s was a gentleman’s club, popular among the younger set while the older gentlemen preferred White’s or Brooks, depending on their political leanings for the most part. At least they hadn’t said Watier’s, he mused; the infamous gamester’s club was no place he cared to visit.
“Why not,” he decided. When the alternative was to spend the evening here watching Ellen dance and smile with an apparently interminable series of partners presented by Lady Jersey and her cronies, spending an evening with some friendly young men of his own age sounded really quite interesting. “Pardon me a few moments while I let my aunt know I am leaving; I can send my carriage back for her later.”
“No need for that, I’ve my own,” Danbury said cheerfully. “We’ll await you in the foyer.”
“Yes, yes, off you go,” Lady Havers said when Thomas approached her to mention he was going to leave with some other young gentlemen. “You’ve done your duty to Louisa. I shall take her home when she wearies of dancing and we shall see you tomorrow.”
“And Ellen.”
“Excuse me?” Lady Havers blinked at him.
“Ellen. Miss Bentley, Aunt Clarice!”
“Oh, yes, of course… where is she? Sitting down with the other wallflowers?” Lady Havers spared a glance towards the side of the room. “No matter, I shall have a servant locate her when we are ready to depart.”
“She is dancing; with a Major Trevithick at present, I believe.”
That got Clarice’s attention; her head snapped around and she stared at him. “Who introduced her to him?” she asked, her tone disbelieving. “He’s one of the Earl of Exeter’s sons!”
“Lady Jersey did, I believe,” Thomas said, finding a perverse pleasure in the way Clarice gaped at him. “Although it might possibly have been Lady Sale, I am not sure.”
“Those two interfering old biddies!” Clarice’s fair expression darkened to puce. She took a deep breath, though, and forced a smile. “Well, I daresay Ellen will enjoy herself for the evening, if they have taken a momentary interest in her. They will tire of her soon enough and toss her aside.”
“Indeed. I shall depend upon you, Aunt Clarice, to determine whether those they introduce her are suitable gentlemen for Ellen to associate with. A Lord Bellmere has already asked if he may call…”
“Bellmere!” Clarice’s eyes fairly popped at that. “He’s one of the wealthiest men in England! I tried all last season to find someone to introduce Louisa to him!”
“Well,” Thomas said, “now Ellen can make the introduction for you.”
For a moment he thought Clarice might slap his face, she looked so angry. He really should not prod at her so, but her unkindness to Ellen was beginning to grate on him. Making her a polite bow, he excused himself and departed to find Danbury and his cronies.
Chapter 10
The gangling major was just escorting Ellen back to the older ladies when she spied Thomas taking his leave of their hosts. He caught her eye across the room and for a moment she thought he was going to turn away without acknowledging her, but he did nod briefly before turning away and exiting the ballroom.
“Thank you so much for asking me to dance, Major Trevithick,” Ellen said. “I enjoyed our dance very much.”
“I did too.” The major flushed, a look rather unbecoming with his red hair, and ducked his head awkwardly. “Might I call upon you, Miss Bentley?”
“I am sure that would be acceptable,” Ellen said, wondering what strange magic was about tonight, that two most eligible gentlemen had expressed a desire to get to know her better. “Lady Havers accepts callers on Tuesday and Friday afternoons.”
“I shall look forward to it greatly,” Trevithick said, “and perhaps the next time we find ourselves at the same ball, you would be so kind as to reserve me the supper dance?”
That was a singular honour indeed; Ellen’s own cheeks flushed as she curtsied and said she should be delighted. The dowagers, listening avidly, beamed at her with approval and, once the major had excused himself, bombarded her with questions, demanding to know what they had talked about. Ellen hardly knew how to answer their questions; she had not thought that they talked of anything unusual. The major seemed quite shy, so after dancing a few moments in silence she had asked him if he had read any interesting books recently, hoping desperately that he was a gentleman who enjoyed reading.
“He said that he had recently re-read Don Quixote,” Ellen told the ladies, “and I asked if he read it in translation or the original Spanish, and which translation, because I have lately read Mr Motteux’s version, and rather prefer it to Mr Shelton’s.”
There was a brief and rather stunned silence, and then Lady Jersey laughed quite loudly. “You’ll do, my girl. You’ll do.”
Ellen hadn’t the faintest idea what Lady Jersey found so amusing. She smiled a little shyly, curtsied again and sai
d “Perhaps it was an inappropriate conversation for me to have with a gentleman, but I am afraid I panicked a little because the major was so quiet.”
“Well, some will disparagingly call you a bluestocking for it,” Lady Sale said, “but let me assure you, Miss Bentley, any man worth his salt will prefer a young lady who demonstrates that she has something more than fluff between her ears.”
“Oh, most certainly,” Lady Jersey agreed. “A man who does not value your intelligence is not worthy of your time, my dear. Do not let anyone tell you otherwise. I despise young ladies who pretend to be something they are not to try to appeal to gentlemen, silly creatures. Getting to the altar under false pretences will not a happy marriage make.”
“Who is going to the altar?” a new voice said, and Ellen felt her shoulders tighten. She forced a smile to her lips and stepped aside deferentially to allow Lady Havers to join the group.
“Nobody I know, at present,” Lady Jersey said cheerfully. “About time you got your girl married off though, Clarice. Can’t bring any of her suitors up to scratch, hm?”
“I'll have you know that Louisa received several offers last season,” Clarice snapped.
“Oh, so she's picky,” Lady Jersey said in enlightened tones.
Clarice's face turned red. Afraid that a full-scale confrontation was brewing, and she would be forbidden to associate the dowagers, Ellen said hastily “Aunt Clarice, I just saw Thomas, I mean Lord Havers, leaving the ball.”
"Oh, don't worry about him, girl," Clarice shook her head. “He’s off to sow his wild oats with some of his young friends, I daresay.”
Ellen knew full well what wild oats referred to and she felt a knot of unhappiness lodge in her chest. Still, she made herself smile and nod. “Will we be leaving soon?” she asked, realising that she was beginning to feel very tired. It must be long past midnight, and she had not managed to break her habit of rising early in the mornings, though Clarice and Louisa were never seen until past noon.